I nodded and continued chewing. After a time, “You made that clear last cycle,” I said.
The waters gave a small sloshing sound. A spectrum drifted across our table, her face.
“Is there something else?” she asked.
“Why don’t you tell me?” I said.
I felt her gaze. I met it.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she answered.
“Are you aware that the Logrus is sentient? And the Pattern?” I said.
“Did Mandor tell you that?” she asked.
“Yes. But I already knew it before he did.”
“How?”
“We’ve been in touch.”
“You and the Pattern? You and the Logrus?”
“Both.”
“To what end?”
“Manipulation, I’d say. They’re engaged in a power struggle. They were asking me to choose sides.”
“Which did you choose?”
“Neither. Why?”
“You should have told me.”
“Why?”
“For counsel. Possibly for assistance.”
“Against the Powers of the universe? How well connected are you, Mother?”
She smiled.
“It is possible that one such as myself may possess special knowledge of their workings.”
“One such as yourself… ?”
“A sorceress of my skills.”
“Just how good are you, Mother?”
“I don’t think they come much better, Merlin.”
“Family is always the last to know, I guess. So why didn’t you train me yourself, instead of sending me off to Suhuy?”
“I’m not a good teacher. I dislike training people.”
“You trained Jasra.”
She tilted her head to the right and narrowed her eyes.
“Did Mandor tell you that, also?” she asked.
“No.
“Who, then?”
“What difference does it make?”
“Considerable,” she replied. “Because I don’t believe you knew it the last time we met.”
I recalled suddenly that she had said something about Jasra back at Suhuy’s, something implying her familiarity with her, something to which I would ordinarily have risen save that I was driving a load of animus in a different direction at the time and heading downhill in a thunderstorm with the brakes making funny noises. I was about to ask her why it mattered when I learned it, when I realized that she was really asking from whom I’d learned it, because she was concerned with whom I might have been speaking on such matters since last we’d met. Mentioning Luke’s Pattern ghost did not seem politic, so, “Okay, Mandor let it slip,” I said, “and then asked me to forget it.”
“In other words,” she said, “he expected it to get back to me. Why did he do it just that way? I wonder. The man is damnably subtle.”
“Maybe he did just let it slip.”
“Mandor lets nothing slip. Never make him an enemy, son.”
“Are we talking about the same person?”
She snapped her fingers.
“Of course,” she said. “It was only as a child that you knew him. You went away after that. You have seen him but a few times since. Yes, he is subtle, insidious, dangerous.”
“We’ve always gotten along well.”
“Of course. He never antagonizes without a good reason.”
I shrugged and went on eating.
After a time she said, “I daresay he has made similar comments about me.”
“I am unable to recall any,” I answered.
“Has he been giving you lessons in circumspection, too?”
“No, though I’ve felt a need to teach myself, of late.”
“Surely, you obtained a few in Amber.”
“If I did, they were so subtle I didn’t notice.”
“Well, well. Can it be I need despair of you no more?”
“I doubt it.”
“So, what might the Pattern or the Logrus want of you?”
“I already told you-a choice of sides.”
“It is that difficult to decide which you prefer?”
“It is that difficult to decide which I dislike less.”
“Because they are, as you say, manipulative of people in their struggle for power?”
“Just so.”
She laughed. Then, “While it shows the gods as no better than the rest of us,” she said, “at least, it shows them as no worse. See here the sources of human morality. It is still better than none at all. If these grounds be insufficient for the choosing of sides, then let other considerations rule. You are, after all, a son of Chaos.”
“And Amber,” I said.
“You grew up in the Courts.”